This is Life
by Missy Mouse
Summary: Another before PotC fic. Sort of prequel to 'The Open Sea'.
1. Default Chapter

Ok, a new story. This is sort of a prequel to 'The Open Sea', although I actually thought of this after that. It is also not at all necessary to read this before that either. Ok I'm done.  
  
I own nothing of this. Except the idea. And someone probably even got there first too, oh well.  
  
I'm gonna zoom through this chapter, just to set the scene. ***********************************************************  
  
Chapter One - In the Beginning  
  
The Moineau family. Rich, powerful. Edouard Moineau, the head of the family, had married a beautiful french woman, Alicia Tarrin. A good marriage, as he himself was french.  
  
Edouard prospered in his work as a merchant sea man. Soon, he and his beloved wife moved to one of the new Caribbean colonies. Soon after, their first child, Jacob, was born.  
  
A year later, Lucinda came into the world. Two beautiful children, and a happy family, but tradgedy befell the family.  
  
Soon after Lucinda's birth, Alicia fell ill. She died two months later. Edouard left his children in the care of a Governess, and went to drown his sorrows in Tortuga.  
  
Edouard staggered through the night time streets. Falling through the doorway of a bar, he caught a glimpse of an angel through his slurred vision. A woman in a white shirt, with beige trousers, drinking and talking with the men, lounged at one end of the bar. Her name was Tanya, and she was a pirate. Edouard was too drunk to notice or think too much. The love he had felt for Alicia surged back, and he wandered towards her.  
  
A year later they were married.  
  
Another few months and their first child was born; they named him Jack. In another year, their second child was born; they named her Ana-Maria . . .  
  
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OOOhhh. Evil Cliffie. Next chapter will be longer and better. Honest. 


	2. Murder

Ok. Second, hopefully better chapter.  
  
Usual disclaimer.  
  
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Chapter Two - Murder  
  
(Four years later)  
  
Jack was wandering through the darkened halls of the Moineau family home. It was early evening, time for small children to be in bed, but the small boy had heard strange noises, like the breaking of glass. His little three- year-old sister Ana-Maria was waddling behind him. The sound had come from their parent's sitting room. Peeping round the door, Jack's eyes widened enormously at the sight of two black clad figures, slipping effortlessly into the room. Their mother sat with her back to the window. She lifted her head, and began to smile at her two children. Ana had pushed her head round the door too; just in time to see a dagger raised high above her mother's body, before it was thrust through her body.  
  
Ana screamed. Jack screamed. Two rough hands were placed over their mouths from behind them, as the two figures slipped from the room.  
  
Struggling to free themselves, the two children came face to face with their silencer. It was their father. He looked down at them sternly, looked straight into their frightened eyes.  
  
"She was a pirate, little ones. She was a bad person."  
  
With that, he pushed them roughly away, and turned on his heel.  
  
"And so are you two pirates." He muttered under his breath.  
  
(Thirteen years later. Jack - 17. Ana - 16)  
  
Jack sat alone in his room. The window was open, allowing the fresh sea air to enter his room. Jack found it strangely comforting. He heard the teasing voice of his older sister Lucinda, outside his door.  
  
"Scared are you? Scared of dancing?"  
  
Jack clenched his fists. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Shoulder length straight black hair, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin. Nothing like his father. Nothing like Jacob. Nothing like Lucinda. Everything like Ana-Maria; everything like his mother. His dead mother. His murdered mother. (A.N. If anyone's seen 'Benny and Joon' that J.Depp was in, kind of like that.)  
  
Ever since she'd been murdered, he and Ana had been the black sheep of the family. Their father had found a new wife. A stern English woman. This meant two more siblings. Beatrice, and Nathaniel.  
  
Jack rose from his desk and opened his bedroom door. He was greeted by a tub of water in the face. The high, mocking laughter of sister Lucinda cut through the air, mingled with the hearty chortles of his other older sibling Jacob.  
  
Jack shut the door again, as the older two rushed off. His clothes were soaked. His best clothes. There was supposed to be a ball this evening. In an hour. There was no chance of his being ready in time. Changing into dryer, and in his opinion more comfortable clothing, Jack stepped over to his window. Making sure to grab a large, floppy brimmed hat off his desk first.  
  
Jack hated dances. It wasn't the dancing, but the almost embarrassing way that his father tried to push Ana and himself off to dance with wealthy aristocrats, in the hope of ridding himself of his two 'pirate' children.  
  
He opened the window, and slipped out onto the sloping roof that ran along under the ledge. Dropping down onto the servants quarters roof from there, he dropped lightly onto the grass.  
  
Running down to the gates, he placed the hat on his head, and scrabbled over the wall. Rushing down into the bustling hubbub of Port Jashal, Jack felt free. Away from the confined space of the Moineau house, he felt alive.  
  
Ana-Maria was also in her room. Various maids were pulling, pushing, shoving and pinning her into her evening costume. Once again she must face the uppity crowds of highborn aristocrats. Once again she would be forced to dance with Lieutenant Darman, the hateful man her father seemed so eager for her to get on with.  
  
Jack was still running. He didn't want to stop, what was the point of walking everywhere if you could run?  
  
Once he was well hidden in the crowds, he slowed down. Jack just liked to walk around the town. Not doing anything particular, just enjoying the sense of freedom. And the rest from his older siblings teasing.  
  
Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind.  
  
"Master Moineau, I must insist you return to your home. It's too dangerous out here."  
  
It was a city guard. Jack sighed.  
  
"Everyone else seems to be alright."  
  
The guard looked confused. Jack wasted no time in racing off in the opposite direction. However, as quick as he was, he could not stop the fat guard stepping out in front of him.  
  
"Oommppf!"  
  
The man grabbed Jack's wrist. The other guard grasped Jack's other hand, and together, they frogmarched the boy back toward his home. Jack glowered as the hated building hove into view. His prison, his cage for seventeen miserable years of teasing, loneliness and 'being brought up properly'.  
  
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How was that? It will get more angsty. And if anyone reviews and says about OOC stuff, well . . .this is before they were the Jack Sparrow and Ana- Maria that we know and love. Lol. But don't worry; Jack isn't going to be a wimp. Neither is Ana come to that. 


	3. Private Hell

Ok, hope you is liking.  
  
Usual disclaimer.  
  
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Chapter Three - Private Hell  
  
The music had started. The happy laughter was already going strong. Ana stood in the middle of it. The colours of dresses and uniforms swirled around her eyes like drink round a glass. The endless throng of people making her dizzy. The many men who sauntered up to her, grasping her frail fingers to drag her into yet another dance. She detested it all.  
  
Jack was bodily pulled downstairs by an array of servants. Eventually, they hoisted him up, one at his head, the other at his feet. He squirmed violently, mentally cursing the tight and awkward clothes he'd been forced into.  
  
At last, they deposited him just outside the hall. They feared more struggling and another hard battle to get him in. But Jackarius Moineau had already lost. The familiar numbness that came upon him every time there was an 'Official Function' on was creeping over him. The pretend mask he un- willingly wore every time he had to dance, talk or be with these false, and impossibly polite people was up. Like an un-wanted shield that stopped him saying how and what he really felt.  
  
He took a few cautious steps forward, and stood at the threshold of his own private hell.  
  
Ana felt ill. She felt faint. Men whisked her about, teasing and fooling with her. It was like some great game. Across the room she saw her older siblings, Jacob and Lucinda, enjoying themselves. They blended into the background like trees into a wood.  
  
Over by one of the pillars, was Beatrice, her lightly tanned skin clashing with her amazingly blonde hair. She looked so pretty, so delicate. Then there was Nathaniel, the perfect gentleman. Ana sighed, watching her two younger siblings. They too blended in perfectly. She scoured the room with her eyes, looking for Jack. She saw him, staring listlessly out into the abyss.  
  
Jack stepped into the room, half expecting the floor to swallow him up. It was too late now. Several young women, obviously the worse for a little too much drink, came skittering up to him. Giggling un-controllably, one of them stood in front of him.  
  
"Hello Jack. I do hope you'll ask me to dance."  
  
She smiled prettily at him, twirling her hair with one finger.  
  
Inwardly, Jack sighed. Here we go again, he thought. Jack settled into his normal routine. Flashing the girl a killer smile that sent all of them into blushing giggles, he took the more forward lady's hand, and led her to the dance floor.  
  
Ana saw the whole thing. Hiding a smile with a fussy but apparently essential fan, she turned away. Jack was always a favourite with the women. It was a sort of relief to their father. Unfortunately the likelihood that Jack would marry any of the stuck up madams round here was very low. About as likely as Ana herself marrying one of the stuck up gentlemen round here.  
  
She turned toward the drinks table, and brief respite. There were comparatively few people there. Ana flapped her pathetic little fan ineffectually. She needed air. But there was no air in this place. At least none not already polluted with noise, smell and heat. Ana began to struggle toward the open doors to the balcony. Her lungs were shrinking, but she made it. Leaning against the door post, she gasped in a most un-ladylike fashion to open her desperate lungs.  
  
"Hello Miss Moineau." 


	4. Sweet Words and Sour Actions

Okies, next chappy!  
  
Hope you peoples are enjoying this! I like writing it, but that is obviously no guarantee that you like it. Oh well.  
  
Regular, no-change disclaimer.  
  
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Chapter Four - Sweet Words and Sour Actions  
  
Ana turned, still trying to catch her breath. It was lieutenant Darman. He stood behind her, not exactly smiling, but not frowning. He never smiled.  
  
"Oh, Lieutenant Darman! What a nice surprise."  
  
Ana beamed falsely. The man seemed peeved by the sight of her actually using her face to convey emotion. It was definitely an alien concept to him.  
  
"I was wondering whether you would do me the honour of gracing me with your presence on the dance floor?"  
  
Ana nearly laughed aloud. So many words for a simple request. It was obvious her father had been busy persuading him to ask her. Particularly after the last time. Ana had been decidedly frosty on that occasion.  
  
"Why of course."  
  
She poked her hand at him, beaming like a lunatic and giggling fiercely. Darman looked away, almost appalled. Ana grabbed his wrist, and began to swing his arm in an overly enthusiastic manner. Skipping merrily and swaying deliberately, Ana dragged the hapless man to the clockwork like dancers already twirling to and fro.  
  
Jack was surrounded on all sides. Girls giggling foolishly, girls hanging on his arm, girls listening to his witty conversation. He was the envy of the entire, single male population of the room. Nearly all the unattached young women were crowded round him, smiling sweetly at him.  
  
He hated it. No, he loathed it. It was all so false. Everyone pretending to be someone else. Even he acting like the posh, upper class rich boy his father wanted him to be. He couldn't help it. He'd been brought up to it. He'd resisted since he could talk, done everything against the grain of society, and yet on social occasions, he became just like everyone else. He was pathetic.  
  
"Oh, Jack will you dance with me next?"  
  
"Oh no Jack not her! Me!"  
  
Another girl entwined her fingers with his, and widened her eyes beautifully. Gazing up into his. Jack disentangled himself, and began making his apologies. Writhing and slipping out of the feminine crowd, he hastened to the door to the balcony. On his way, he passed Ana, dangling off the arm of Lieutenant Darman, making cooing noises, and generally being embarrassing. Silently Jack cheered her on.  
  
The air was cooler out here. He could see the sea. Watching the moonlight rippling over it's surface like the water itself, Jack could remember his mother. He could see snippets of her with his mind's eye. He could recollect quick flashes of her voice. Nothing more though.  
  
He heard heavy footsteps behind him. He already knew who was there.  
  
"Jackarius."  
  
The voice was stern. Harsh. There was a definite French accent to it.  
  
"Father."  
  
Jack turned. His father was a tall, imposing man. Not thin, but not fat either. Lithe, would be a good word. His voice was still deep and commanding. He looked at his son in annoyance. Jack never did anything he was told.  
  
"I saw you speaking with the young ladies."  
  
"Well I was."  
  
"Yes, but any progress? Who is it you intend to marry?"  
  
Jack shrugged. His father drew himself up angrily. He was fed up with this. Jack should be looking out for someone, preferably rich. Instead he did nothing.  
  
"Jackarius, you will marry on your eighteenth birthday, whether you choose the girl, or I do!"  
  
Jack glowered at his father. He didn't like thinking of the man as that, but it was an unfortunate truth. He preferred to think of him as 'murderer'.  
  
"If you choose, Father, you'll probably be round after two weeks of the marriage to kill my wife on the grounds of being a pirate!"  
  
. . .The punch had stung. Jack rubbed his jaw ruefully, staring blankly at the bedroom door. At least he had escaped the dance. There was a red mark appearing on the left side of his face. Jack didn't mind. The music was still loud downstairs. Jack flopped back on the bed, and drifted into a peaceful doze.  
  
Ana had now danced several times with Darman. He seemed unable to take any more. Several people had already left the house, and were on their way home. Ana bid farewell to most of them, before retiring to her room.  
  
Jack's bedroom door was closed. She could hear snoring. Ana carried on along the corridor. As she laid a hand on her door handle, a high-pitched voice screeched;  
  
"Ana-Maria!"  
  
She turned to see her stepmother, Miranda. The sharp-featured woman advanced, her dress, which was more of a tent, swaying like a treetop around her waist.  
  
"I saw you dancing disgracefully with Lieutenant Darman. It was a despicable thing to do. Dirtying the family name, you and your horrid brother."  
  
Ana smiled, somewhat evilly. Miranda screeched again, and tried to lash out. Her long, sharp nails caught Ana on the cheek. Two short, thin lines streaked their way across her face.  
  
Gasping with shock more than pain, Ana waited until she sensed blood on her skin. Wiping her fingers across the wound, she grabbed at her stepmothers dress, wiping as much of the red liquid onto the fabric as possible.  
  
Another enraged squeal followed, but Ana was quick. Wrenching the door open, she shot inside, and banged it shut, forcing the lock closed. Ana began changing from her impractical and detested corset, to her nightwear. Outside, Miranda's shouts and fierce banging spoilt the silent upper-floors of the Moineau household. Across the hallway, Jack opened his eyes and groaned. 


	5. The Hunted

Hi all!  
  
Usual disclaimer. Thanky to all my reviewers!!! (All two of you, so far, lo1)  
  
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Chapter Five - The Hunted  
  
"You two are ungrateful, horrid and bad mannered children! You disgust my guests, embarrass members of our navy," Governor Moineau eyed Ana Maria, "and you refuse to marry!" He glared at Jack.  
  
Ana and Jack stood before their outraged father, heads bowed, hands clasped behind their backs. Jacob and Lucinda stood sniggering to one side of the room, alongside their father. Miranda stood with her arms protectively round Beatrice and Nathaniel, at the other side of the room.  
  
Jack and Ana had never felt so alone. Although they stood together, opposite their father, each felt isolated. Once the tirade had ceased, both of them turned to go. There came a sharp reprimand from their father.  
  
"You don't leave until I say you can! Get back here now!"  
  
Jack stopped. His fists clenched. Casting one rebellious look over his shoulder, he strode purposefully out of the room. Ana followed him, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at her older brother and sister.  
  
In the room there was a chilling silence. Governor Moineau brought a fist down hard on the table. Everyone in the room jumped. Miranda clasped her children closer, watching her husband with admiration. Lucinda and Jacob looked on like a pair of gossips, eager to hear the latest scandal of their two misfit siblings.  
  
The imposing man walked slowly and deliberately out. He shut the door behind him with an agonising slowness. It banged, almost un-naturally loud as it closed.  
  
With the air of a hunter after his prey, he began to ascend the stairs.  
  
Ana was sobbing brokenly into her pillow. It didn't hurt. The dark, widening mark on her shoulder didn't hurt. Not compared to the red Chinese burn twisted round her arm. But even that didn't sting as much as the taste of her own tears. She was a weak, frail little girl, destined to marry some toffee nosed navy officer, and dangle from his uniformed arm forever more. She knew it. And her father wouldn't let her forget.  
  
Jack was slouched on the edge of his bed, methodically wrapping a white linen bandage round his bleeding arm. Every time he moved his face a slow ache began in his right cheek. The muscles felt like they were seizing up. His jaw still throbbed from yesterday. He felt awful. He wished he could've helped Ana. He wished he could get out if this damn house for more than an hour on his own. He wished a lot of things. But none of them came true. Finishing his bandaging, and looking out the window, Jack began to wonder if they ever would. 


	6. Getting Out

Okies, here we are again. Yes, your right that they're going to make a run for it, but I guess that is kind of obvious. Not that I'm insulting your intelligence.  
  
Usual disclaimer.  
  
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Chapter Six – Getting Out  
  
It was raining. Big, thick heavy rain drops. Jack could hardly see out of window. Neither could Ana. Nor could the Navy officers on patrol see further than an arm's length in front of them.  
  
The first bang was almost deafening. It broke the steady splashes of rain with a thundering boom. It reverberated inside your ears. Shook the buildings. Even the Moineau manor trembled violently. The houses close to port all but collapsed.  
  
The second boom shocked the rain-blinded guards into frantic activity. The un-thinkable had happened. They raced down to the harbour, large black balls of metal, pummelling the un-defended homes and shops of Port Jashal. Balls with searing chains ripped through a civilised community in seconds, turning anything close to the sea into rubble. One heavily armed Navy ship caught light, and erupted into a flickering inferno, tumbling into the waters.  
  
Ana raced into her brother's room, and together they witnessed the destruction of the town. They noticed people, simply collapsing into lifeless heaps on the cobbled streets. Then they saw the raggedly clothed men, their greedy eyes glinting, their blood soaked swords staining the ground. Their fierce yells piercing even the stonewalls of the Moineau home.  
  
Suddenly, the stone manor didn't seem so safe and in-penetrable. Ana began to back out of the room.  
  
"We have to get out of here, Jack!"  
  
Ana's voice was shrill with fear. When her father was cross she only felt anger, but now, this was different. Something terrible could realistically happen to her and Jack. They had to go.  
  
"Come on! We need to escape!"  
  
'Escape'. The word sparked an idea in the cunning mind of Jackarius Moineau. Escape, indeed.  
  
"Yes. You're right."  
  
Ana grabbed his hand. He looked dazed.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
He reached into a drawer in the desk. It was a book. Ana recognised it. Her mother's pirate journal. She'd given it to Jack before their father realised who she was. She'd told her delighted children it was a storybook. Ana remembered also the gold necklace her mother had given her. She ran a hand over the gold chain round her neck. It was there, safe.  
  
"Quick!"  
  
They darted out of the room, and ran toward the back entrance. It was where the servants left and entered the house. Through the kitchen. They found no one there. The whole house had seemed deserted. Everyone had gone.  
  
It stung. No one had come for them. The loneliness rushed back. Ana felt sick with worry. She didn't like either of her parents, but she'd also never had to live without them. Jack clutched her hand. Neither had he. It was just them.  
  
Stepping out onto the streets, Ana had imagined they would run for the hills, and try and find their family. Jack however, began to pull her away from the hills, down toward the loud banging noises in the harbour.  
  
"Jack! Are you mad? There are pirates down there!"  
  
Jack didn't answer. Already his excited mind was drawing pictures of wide expanses of sea, open clear blue skies. Himself at the helm of a beautiful ship, in command. An entire ship. A pirate ship. Captain Jack Moineau.  
  
Like one in a trance, he began to march toward the harbour. Ana had no choice. She followed her brother, who was already winding his way through the streets.  
  
After much dodging and hiding, they came upon the bay. The ship was anchored a little way out. Ana hoped the sight of the fearsome ship would snap Jack out of his daydream, but no. It made him worse.  
  
His eyes widened, taking it all in. Without breaking his gaze, he untied the rope of a nearby rowing boat, and leapt in. To Ana's knowledge, he had never been in a boat, and yet here he was, starting to row like he'd been born to it. Which, she remembered, in a way he had.  
  
"Jack, wait!"  
  
She began to scamper across to the small craft, and clumsily hopped in. She had expected to wobble, and collapse over the bench with the motion of the sea, but she didn't. Her feet were steady, her body automatically balancing her.  
  
Carefully, she sat down opposite Jack, who kept stealing glances at the large pirate vessel.  
  
Eventually, they reached the side of the ship. Jack stretched up to grab some rope hanging over the side. He began hauling himself upwards. Ana followed suit, struggling with her many skirts. As she gained the railings, Jack caught her wrists, and pulled her onto the deck. They both ducked behind a canon, at the sound of gruff voices.  
  
"Get the crew back in. Then take 'er out. On to a bit of plunderin' me mates!"  
  
The two stowaways looked on as the great, black sails unfurled. One with a wide-eyed excitement. The other with wide-eyed anxiety. 


	7. Losing It

Hullo again, my loyal Slaves! Er, I mean reviewers!  
  
Usual disclaimer. Basically, the plot's mine. Everything else isn't.  
  
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Chapter Seven – Losing It  
  
Not much time had passed before the stowaway's had been discovered. Now they sat in a damp brig, the bilge water sloshing about with the motions of the ship.  
  
Jack still sat, his eyes so wide Ana was frightened they'd fall out. He hadn't stopped grinning since they'd climbed aboard. The crew believed him insane. Ana was beginning to agree with them.  
  
"Oi! Youse two! I'm takin' ye to the Capt'n!"  
  
A tall, skinny man had appeared. Another tall man accompanied him. However, his companion was also rather tubby about the middle. Together they opened the cell door, and pulled the siblings upward. Ana wriggled as much as her dress would allow, but Jack just stood there. They even let go of him, but all he did was turn and look further round at his surroundings.  
  
They were lead up into the night. The crew jeered them, and made, what Ana thought were, horrid remarks about her. They were shoved roughly into a large room. It contained a table, several chairs, and a short, fat piggy- eyed man.  
  
"Ahh! The stowaways!"  
  
Ana and Jack were tied to the chairs, and the other crewmembers left. The Captain, at least Ana thought him to be the captain, leaned back in his chair.  
  
"Why have you come aboard my ship?"  
  
Ana looked at Jack, who was marvelling at the interior of the cabin. Ana gave up, and looked back at the ball of a man opposite.  
  
"Umm...We wanted to escape Port Jashal."  
  
"Oh. I suppose that makes it perfectly acceptable...Not! Why should I have to feed two little runaways like you?!"  
  
"We'll work on deck!"  
  
"Do you know anything about ships?"  
  
"Well...not a lot..."  
  
"It'll have to be deck scrubbing. You will work day and night, and whenever I want you to. You are to live in the brig. Mr Trant!"  
  
The tall, skinny man reappeared. He untied Ana, and the still amazed Jack, before throwing them outside, onto the water covered deck. Two brushes were dropped onto them. Ana grabbed her brush savagely. It was all Jack's fault.  
  
Jack looked up from the deck boards. All around him, real pirates were clambering over a real pirate ship. The rigging swaying, the ship creaking, the shouts and calls of the men. The beautiful polished wood of the helm. Jack's eyes lingered on that especially. He'd stand there someday.  
  
He looked across at his sister, who was taking out her fury on the deck. He nudged her gently in the ribs.  
  
"Wonderful, isn't it Ana?"  
  
Ana stared at him. She was on her hands and knees, crawling about in two inches of cold, rank seawater. They'd just been sentenced to being slaves for their lives aboard this foul ship. Jack had well and truly lost it.  
  
The sound of flesh on flesh rang out. The pirates didn't hear it. Only Ana and Jack heard it. Ana didn't need to, as she had caused it. Neither did Jack; he'd felt it. It was to be the first of many slaps. 


	8. Someone Else?

Hi again.  
  
Umm, does anyone mind if we kind of zooooooom forward two years? Well, tough if you do. And if anyone is wondering why the ages are shown...umm, on a whim, really.  
  
Oh yeah. I NEED ANA'S SURNAME FROM THE FILM!!! If she doesn't have one I'll make it up, but could someone with a DVD/Video/better memory please tell me in your review!! Can't update without it guys.  
  
Regular disclaimer.  
  
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Chapter Eight – Someone Else?  
  
(Two years have passed. Jack-19. Ana-18.)  
  
The sea was rough. Waves fell to the deck, pummelling the crew flat. The air was crammed to bursting with sharp rain, biting gales and the yells and orders of the crew.  
  
Below decks, water soaked down through the gaps in the timbers. The amount of bilge water had increased alarmingly. The creaks of the ship were louder; the sails that were still out, strained above, screeching against the wind in protest.  
  
Ana tried to sleep. She was miserable. She had been miserable for two years. No, she'd been miserable most of her life, but for the last two years she'd been worse. It was awful. She pulled the large shirt she wore tighter. After the incident of getting caught, and nearly washed overboard several months ago in that dress, she'd changed. Now she favoured men's clothing, purely for her own safety. It was, she had to admit, more comfortable.  
  
Jack was sleeping like a baby next to her. He could sleep anywhere. He looked a lot different. Again, the extravagant clothes of the rich had no place on a pirate ship. Shirt, breeches, jacket and boots; all the other members of the crew wore variations on the above. His hair was hanging either side of his face, as he'd given up trying to tie up out of his eyes. Several plaits had appeared; there wasn't much else to do down here.  
  
The rumble of the sky and the roar of the sea woke Jack. It had lulled him to sleep. But now the noise was almost deafening.  
  
"You're awake then."  
  
"Yes. Storm still goin' on up there?"  
  
Jack kept his face expressionless. Ana resisted the urge to slap him. Instead she concentrated on the rising water on the floor.  
  
He's started talking like the pirates do. But so have I.  
  
"Ben, get 'em up 'ere!"  
  
The voice of Captain Aversham rang out down the stair well. It was a voice they'd learnt to hate. The first mate, Mr Trant, came rushing down, soaked to the bone. He looked wild and scared. Hastily opening the door, he pushed them out, and up to the deck.  
  
From now on, Jack knew to do what he was told. He'd end up over the side otherwise. Ana followed him. A loud, thwacking noise beat out a strange rhythm above them. A sail was not furled. With a sinking feeling, Ana knew who'd be sent up the rigging.  
  
"You two! Get that sail sorted ou'!"  
  
Argument was useless. Jack started up the twisting rigging. Rain lashed his face; his hands were frozen to the rope by the wind. He could hang on in that same spot for ages, but he had to let go to climb up.  
  
Eventually, after miles of coarse rope and gallons of stinging water, he reached the beam that stretched above the sail. He looked back to help Ana onto it. They stood on the slippery wood, watching even the rain slide off. It was a long way to the unforgiving deck below.  
  
Gingerly, they stepped out, Jack then Ana. Sideways along it they went. Right to the other end. Crouching down, they began lifting the heavy canvas. After many misses, when one or both of them overbalanced, the sail was up. Ana started the long walk back. Jack followed on behind her, taking a quick look out to sea. His heart shot into hi throat, and his stomach fell into his feet. There was a large wave, heading right for the prow. He opened his mouth to warn his sister, but too late.  
  
The entire ship shook violently. Ana gave a shrill shriek of surprise, and leapt upward. He feet hit the beam quickly, but the force made her wobble. Jack too began a mad dance, his feet never still, trying to stay upright. The ship rolled uncontrollably, throwing men about like seeds in a sack.  
  
Jack shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on the ship's movement. Tried to feel through the wood where it would go next. It worked. He stopped waving like an ear of corn. Ana too seemed absorbed with focusing on her balance. Soon enough, they were still, swaying automatically with the motion of the sea.  
  
Captain Aversham called them down. Gladly, they clambered back down the rigging. No shouts of gratitude, no slapping on the back. Once again, they were lead the familiar path back to their dark, dingy cell.  
  
The morning dawned clear. The crew were celebrating their victory with barrels of ale and rum. Raucous singing could be heard. Ana and Jack sat, silent in the brig. There was no chatter. Two years was a long time to fill with chatter from end to end. They talked less anyway. Ever since their escape, Jack had been quiet. Indeed, he rarely said a word. But there was always a knowing look about him, like one who's in on a joke, which no body else in the world has heard. The entire episode seemed for him to be an enormous practical joke that he'd planned, but it hadn't yet reached the punch line.  
  
Ana had no one else to talk to, so had rather got out of the habit.  
  
The singing stopped. There were indistinguishable calls, then the sound of something being brought aboard. Several moments later, and two crew members came down the stairs, dragging two bodies behind them.  
  
"Got some friends, fer ye!"  
  
The bodies were shoved into the opposite cell. The pirates left. Jack and Ana peered through the bars at the new comers. Two men. Both were wet, and raggedly clothed. One was quite tubby round the middle. The other was lean, with hair the colour of dirty sand.  
  
They appeared to be unconscious. Ana sat back, deflated. No new stories for a while. Jack looked amazingly disinterested. He began another plait.  
  
Several hours later, and the singing, which had restarted, had quietened. There were muffled yells from above, but little else.  
  
The two visitors moaned and groaned in their waking. The fat one sat up. He had very little hair, but what there was of it was dark brown and wiry. He looked at Ana strangely.  
  
"Who might ye be, lass?"  
  
"Ana. Who are you?"  
  
"Name's Pintel. This 'ere's Ragetti. What ship's this?"  
  
"The Black Pearl. Where did you come from?"  
  
"Black Pearl, eh?" Pintel looked round at the brig. "Nice ship this. Could do wit' a few repairs, but..."  
  
The still unconscious form of Ragetti yawned and sat up.  
  
"Yew awake now? Thought you was goin' ta be like that for ever!"  
  
"S'not my fault. That Capt'n hit me one on me head!"  
  
Ragetti's voice was un-naturally high for a man. But it suited him. Is face was gaunt, and the skin seemed stretched over his bones.  
  
"Who's this wench, then?"  
  
Ana uttered a cry of rage.  
  
"I am no one's wench!"  
  
"Alright! No need ta blow yer top. Who's he? Mute, is he?"  
  
Jack, who had been ignoring the previous conversation, but listening to them intently, raised his eyes to the new prisoners. Neither could hold his gaze.  
  
"We didn't mean to offend him, like."  
  
"Nah, jus' askin'!"  
  
Ana looked back at her brother. He was surveying Ragetti and Pintel with a look of hopefulness and amusement. Finally he grinned. Ana stared at him. He never used to grin like that. His eyes seemed to light up like beacons. He looked triumphant.  
  
"You two are pirates, right?"  
  
Ana looked back quickly, as they nodded their heads.  
  
"That's right. Aboard the 'Wave Cutter'."  
  
Jack moved closer to the bars. He stopped grinning, and replaced it with a look of sincerity.  
  
"How come you end up bein' hauled aboard this tub then?"  
  
"Ahh, we got chucked over board by the sea, see? Been floatin' about on the water for a while."  
  
"Yeah, that 'orrid storm."  
  
"Well, me lucky lads I've got a plan. But, trouble is, I need a brave an' bold crew to help me, see?"  
  
Pintel and Ragetti nodded eagerly. They leaned closer to the bars of their cell.  
  
"Well, seems to me, that the current crew of this 'ere ship have probably 'ad enough drink to drown a fish. Why don't we stroll on up, an do a bit of piratin' by taking the ship!"  
  
There was a shocked silence. Jack had stretched his arms out sideways, the strange grin had returned. His audience were captivated. Ana couldn't believe it. Was this her brother? Was this Jackarius Moineau? Or was it someone else? 


	9. Captain Moineau

Okay. I received like nooooo reviews last chappie.....* Looks sad. * Not even Cap'n Keira graced chapter eight with her reviewing presence.  
  
Oh well. Sympathy call over. Also, I need Ana's surname!!!!!!! Pwease!  
  
Hehe.  
  
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Chapter Nine – Captain Moineau  
  
Ana wasn't sure how they escaped their cells. Pintel had picked the lock, with a bent piece of wire. It seemed he'd done so before.  
  
"Jack! Have you thought this through? This isn't like you!"  
  
Jack just smiled slyly, and hurried up to the deck.  
  
The crew lay about on the deck, drunk. They were nearly all unconscious. Many of them, however, were muttering drunkenly.  
  
Pintel took a sword from Mr Trant's waistband. He waved it experimentally.  
  
"I seys we shoves 'em inta the sea!"  
  
"But they'll drown!"  
  
"Can't help that, lass."  
  
Ana stared at Jack. He looked momentarily worried, before his customarily passive expression returned. He nodded.  
  
The two pirates began hefting their brethren into the waves. It woke most of the drunks, but it was too late to return to ship. Its sails were full of the powerful wind, pulling it across the water at a fast pace.  
  
Once the deck was void of the old crew, Pintel looked at Jack. The boy had walked over to the wheel in a sort of trance. He let his hands stray over the polished wood, almost afraid of it.  
  
Jack looked out over the ship. He'd never stood here before. Not for two years on this beastly ship. 'No, this beautiful ship.' His mind whispered. And now he looked, this ship was beautiful. It's sails hummed, it's wooden shape was streamlined. It stood out against it's blue and aquamarine surroundings like a jewel. 'A pearl'.  
  
Pintel and Raggetti looked up at him. They'd never captained a ship before. They needed leadership.  
  
"Umm, Mr Moineau?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Er, you gonna tell us what needs doin?"  
  
Raggetti waved vaguely at the ship. It creaked in reply.  
  
"Nah. You're experienced sailors, right? You can do it without bein' told."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"Aye, aye, Captain!"  
  
Ana spun round to face her brother. Jack sighed contentedly. Captain Moineau...It felt good. But it wasn't right.  
  
Ana had walked up to him.  
  
"Happy are we, Captain Moineau? Finally got good at playin' pirates?"  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"You! You've barely said a word since we stowed away, and now your turning into a pirate!"  
  
Jack looked uncomfortably at his feet. He'd always wanted to live on the sea. Like his mother. But he didn't want to have to wear some daft Navy uniform, or conform to any rules. After 17 years of rules, and then another two years under different rules, he'd had enough of them. He wanted freedom.  
  
"Look, Ana, our mum was a pirate. It must run in blood or something, because I like being out here." He gestured to the ocean.  
  
"I'm sorry you don't too."  
  
Ana stared at him. She did the only thin she knew how to do. She stamped her foot. It was pathetic. She knew it was pathetic. Raggetti and Pintel stifled chortles as she marched across the deck, and locked herself in her cabin.  
  
(Two months later.)  
  
Ana sat sulking on the rails of the ship. Pintel had promised that they were near a port. She wanted off the sea now. She wanted off this boat. Jack had become a Captain overnight. God knows how, she thought. Maybe he'd known all along. Maybe he was just...born with it.  
  
Well she wasn't born with any seafaring know how. She hated this life. She wished she were back at home.  
  
It had been Jack's twentieth birthday a few weeks ago. Ana had kept a note of such things, counting off the days in her head, scratching marks in the wall. Jack hadn't noticed.  
  
It was her birthday to day. Ana noticed. She felt older, but far too old. The sea had weathered her face. She didn't look very old, but a lot older than nineteen. She felt forty-two. Jack seemed to feel about ten. He sprang about the ship now, like a giddy child. He was grinning, singing or looking far too passive to not be laughing inside.  
  
"Land ho!"  
  
Ana turned, and saw a long grey smudge behind her. Jack came leaping down the rigging, producing a telescope from somewhere. He peered out to sea.  
  
"Land ho, indeed Mr Pintel!"  
  
"Aye, that be Tortuga, if'n I'm any judge."  
  
"T-Tortuga? Isn't that full of, bad people?"  
  
Raggetti laughed aloud at Ana's innocent face.  
  
"Oh aye, tis full o' bad types, miss!"  
  
Ana folded her arms hotly. Jack just slapped her on the back jovially.  
  
"Cheer up Ana, luv!"  
  
Ana nearly screamed. Luv? Luv! He was as bad as the two pirates, or worse! She slapped him hard across the face, biting her tongue to keep herself from screeching.  
  
Jack staggered back a few steps, shocked.  
  
"Wha'? What've I done now!"  
  
"Luv! I'm your sister! I have my own name! Stop talkin' to me like you're a..." she hesitated. "...a bloody pirate!"  
  
Ana stood, shaking with fury. Jack stared at her, hurt stamped across his face.  
  
"Ana!"  
  
"No! I'm not stayin' with you when we get to this port. I'm getting' a boat home. I don't want to be here any more!"  
  
Pintel and Raggetti had withdrawn below. Jack looked round the empty deck.  
  
"Why? What's so bad about it?"  
  
"All of it! I hate the sea! I hate this ship! And..." Another hesitation. "...I hate you!"  
  
Silence. Even the waves went quiet. Ana felt scared of her own daring. Jack swallowed. His soft brown eyes met Ana's for a second, and she felt awful. She wanted to stop it there, but her anger pressed her beyond the safe limit.  
  
"I hate this pirate, who's obsessed with his ship! It's not you! You used to worry about me, now ever since we left home; you've been turning into some kind of eccentric pirate! Why?"  
  
Jack made small circles on the deck with his foot. He didn't know why. It felt like he was being allowed to be him. Like all that time in Port Jashal, he'd been trapped behind some kind of mask. Now, the mask had gone. This was what he was like. This was Jackarius Moineau, not some posh Governors son.  
  
"This is me, Ana. I'm not going home."  
  
"Fine."  
  
The ship docked. Raggetti and Pintel led the two anxious siblings off into the dark streets. A man, babbling in French, walked past. He pointed at Jack and Ana, and said something in Pintel's ear.  
  
"Who are zey?" (A.N.Sorry. Attempting French accent. No offence intended.)  
  
"Some kids who stowed away on the 'Black Pearl'. Jack and Ana Moineau."  
  
Pintel gave the man a brief outline of the story. The Frenchman seemed surprised. Finally, he nodded. He smiled slightly at the two of them, before carrying on.  
  
He ended up in a pub, stuffed with chattering men and women. Leaning on the bar, he called to the barman.  
  
"Hey, Thegg!"  
  
Mr Thegg ambled across to him, smearing the grime round a beer glass with a brown towel.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I just zaw Mr Pintel and Mr Raggetti. Zey were with two kids."  
  
"So?"  
  
"The boy, he is Captain of the 'Black Pearl'!"  
  
Mr Thegg dropped the glass. No one seemed bothered by the loud smash.  
  
"No! How'd he manage it?"  
  
The Frenchman relayed the story Pintel had given him. Mr Thegg smiled.  
  
"Ole' Pintel and Raggetti never were good pirates. Couldn't Captain a ship for money those two. So he's a natural, eh?"  
  
The Frenchman nodded vigorously.  
  
"Mr Raggetti zays they are going to see Barboosa. Apparently he's out of work."  
  
He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. Thegg chuckled.  
  
"He's a card Barbossa. Started more mutinies than any other pirate I know. So, they're gonna play at bein' a loyal crew, afore they tip 'im overboard. Don't see the point meself."  
  
The Frenchman grinned a toothless grin.  
  
"Zey say that the boy has Tanya Morgan's diary..."  
  
Thegg's jaw dropped.  
  
"No, not? Not really?" 


	10. Captain Sparrow

Howdy!  
  
Yup, here y'are. Okay, I've finally settled on a surname for Ana. Enjoy!  
  
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Chapter Ten – Captain Sparrow  
  
"Right, now youse two stay 'ere. Don't go wandrin' off, ye got that?"  
  
Jack and Ana nodded dumbly.  
  
"Now we's gonna go and have a chat to some friends of ours. Back quite soon, alright?"  
  
Pintel and Ragetti left the grubbly hotel room. It was high up on the hillside, away from the rougher areas of the town. Once outside, Ragetti prodded his companion in the arm.  
  
"Why's we 'angin' on to 'em?"  
  
Pintel shoved his lanky friend into an alcove.  
  
"Cuz I saw the diary that boys got, It's Tanya Morgan's! She must've been his mum, or sumthin'. Anyway, there are co-ordinates fer treasures in there!"  
  
Ragetti's eyes bulged. He smiled and laughed his wheezing laugh.  
  
"Know what they are?"  
  
"Nah, didn't 'ave time to look, but I know he's got the diary. So, lets go find our pals, eh mate?"  
  
The two pirates set off to find their devious comrades.  
  
"So, yer off then? Gonna get a boat to Port Jashall, you said."  
  
Ana nodded. She wanted to go home, be away from the sea. If she could bear it for one more long-ish trip...She'd be back in the stuffy old house. Back to being married off.  
  
It was strange, but now she walked with a sailors rolling gait. She missed the swaying of a ship beneath her feet. She missed the sea. She didn't miss her family.  
  
"No, actually. I'll stay here."  
  
"Oh? Why?"  
  
Ana considered.  
  
"Because if I go, you'll do something stupid. I've got to look after you."  
  
"I'm the oldest one!"  
  
"Yes, but you're also the most irresponsible, and the daftest one."  
  
Jack grinned.  
  
"Fair enough, little sister. I s'pose we better start turning into pirates."  
  
They looked at themselves in the mirror. After about ten seconds, Jack said under his breath;  
  
"Bloody hell, that's gonna take some work."  
  
Much to Pintel's dismay, Barbossa wasn't in Tortuga. He had in fact left for a few days, on some unknown voyage. This was good news for the budding pirates, however.  
  
Early on, Ana had decided that Jack looked too young to be trusted by a bloodthirsty pirate crew. She had then, using her ladies knowledge of 'How to alter and take care of one's appearance', decreed that he ought to grow a beard and a moustache.  
  
Ana herself had very few ideas concerning her own, youthful, appearance. Mind you, she wasn't going to be Captain.  
  
After a daylight saunter down to some of the abundant shops, both of them had returned looking a good deal more piratical. Ragetti had made a mistake in leaving his bag of money lying around. After all, as Jack had said as they spent it, what do all pirates say?  
  
Take what you can, give nothing back.  
  
"The hat looks good."  
  
Jack gave an imitation of a girlish giggle.  
  
"Oh, d'ye think so?"  
  
Jack pulled it on squarely. Ana shot him a dirty look before continuing.  
  
"And you look a good bit older with the beard and moustache."  
  
Jack stroked his chin reflectively. He 'did' look a lot older, actually. After viewing several regular pirates, he had decided to plait a few more strands of hair, and add some beads. He almost fitted in to the rest of Tortuga's clientele.  
  
Ana, who was now also pulling on a hat, had rubbed her skin with salt water. Her face looked rougher now, and while she didn't look much older, she looked like she'd been at sea more.  
  
Once more they viewed themselves in the mirror.  
  
"I think we look the part, now lets go for a wander, see if we blend in."  
  
The two of them set out into the street. Pintel and Ragetti had gone ages ago, on some other apparently important errand. As long as they didn't see them, they'd be fine.  
  
Stepping down the cobbled streets, you couldn't really tell them from any other pirates. But, news travelled fast. Another man, equally scruffy and dirty looking halted in front of them.  
  
"Are you that kid who got ahold of the 'Pearl'? Jack Sparrow, someone said yer name was."  
  
Jack stared at him. Sparrow? Where on earth...  
  
"Are ye? Well the man was French, he called ye Jack Moineau, but that's French fer sparrow, ain't it?"  
  
Jack nodded silently. Captain Jack Sparrow? Captain Sparrow? Yes, now that sounded better. Moineau sounded too posh for a pirate's name, but sparrow, well it was far better.  
  
"Aye. I'm captain Sparrow."  
  
"Oh. Ye look older, than he said..."  
  
Jack shrugged.  
  
"'ard life at sea, mate."  
  
Jack smiled innocently. The other man walked off, with a careless shrug of his shoulders.  
  
Ana gazed at her brother's widening grin.  
  
"Oh, so you're Captain Sparrow now, are ye?"  
  
"Yes. I rather think I am."  
  
With that, Jack started off down the street again. Ana trailed along in his wake, disbelief imprinted on her features. He'd be discovering treasure maps next... 


End file.
